A Change of Pace
by PrincessEilonwy
Summary: Golan Trevize desperately needs a vacation from his life on the Far Star. Will the change be for the better?
1. Insanity

Disclaimer: Neither Golan Trevize nor his abominable fashion sense belongs to me.

A/N: Don't ask why I wrote this.  I seem to be starting a large number of Foundation stories for no reason, but that's just because I can't resist poking fun at Asimov.  It's so easy...Anyway, this is my first story dealing with the intrepid crew of the _Far Star_.  I was thinking about it while being dragged around by my family at the mall.  My sister was looking at some ridiculously wide belts and for some reason I started thinking about Trevize and his sashes...

A Change of Pace

Golan Trevize was having a bad day.

"I'm having a bad day," he announced to his friend Janov Pelorat as he slammed the door to Pelorat's room behind him.

Looking up from his bookfilm viewer, Pelorat fixed Trevize with a look of mild concern.  "Oh, I'm sorry to hear that, Golan," he said sympathetically.  "What's wrong?"

What a question.  Trevize wondered briefly where to start.  "Janov," he began tentatively, "have you ever had the kind of day where you feel like the universe is watching you and having a good laugh?"  Actually, this was the feeling he had most days, but it was as good a place to start as any.  If Pelorat wanted to know what was wrong...

Pelorat cocked his head and blinked a few times.  "Well...actually, no," he admitted.  "I don't think I have.  Why?"  He glanced furtively down at his book as if he would like to go back to it, but Trevize cleared his throat and Pelorat jumped a little.  When Trevize was sure he had his friend's full attention, he went on.

"The thing is," he complained, beginning to pace, "that nobody understands.  I tell them the universe is laughing at me and they look at me and...well...laugh."  Pelorat coughed—a cough that sounded suspiciously like a disguised laugh—but Trevize ignored him.

"And then there are all these problems I'm burdened with," Trevize went on mournfully.  "First this whole wild goose chase, and then Bliss—"

"Golan..." Pelorat warned, looking uncharacteristically serious.  "You're my friend, but if you say one more word about Bliss I'll—"

"And Fallom."  Trevize was getting really warmed up now, and nothing was going to stop him from pouring out his grievances against life, the universe, and everything.  "Fallom was the last straw.  I don't like children at the best of times, but she—it—_whatever!"_  He shuddered in horror at the memory of that short time when the child had contaminated his beloved ship.  No doubt he would remain traumatized for the rest of his life.

Pelorat was frowning now.  "Now see here, Golan, it wasn't all that bad.  And I realize you're not on the best of terms with Bliss, but you could try.  Honestly, old chap, I think she'd like to be friends with you."

Whatever else he might have planned to say about friendship and civilized behavior was cut off as Trevize stormed out of the room, banging the door shut again.  Pelorat sighed, shook his head, and went back to his book, muttering, "Young people these days."

As is the way of life on spaceships, Trevize didn't go far before he bumped into Bliss.  She was sprawled on the sofa in the parlor, eating.  Trevize made polite noises indicating that he would like to sit on the sofa as well and would appreciate it if she moved, but she ignored him completely and continued to stuff her face.

"Ahem."  It was time for the slightly less polite noises.  "A_hem._"  No response whatsoever.  _"AHEM."_  There, Trevize thought with satisfaction.  Bliss couldn't possibly ignore that...

Then again, maybe she could.  Trevize shook his head in disbelief.  This was it.  He had tried to be polite and friendly for Janov's sake.  However, Bliss was clearly being deliberately antagonistic.  "All right," he muttered.  "No more Mr. Nice Guy."

"Bliss," he said flatly, taking the container out of her hands and glowering down at her.  "Move."  Bliss blinked up at him and reached for the container, but he held it just out of reach.  "Move and I'll give you back the food."

"What is this, Trevize?" Bliss asked with every appearance of innocence.  "Why are you doing this?"  She made another futile grab for the food.

Trevize wasn't fooled by her act.  "As if you didn't know," he snarled.  "Every single time I want to sit on this sofa, _you_ are here taking up all the room and eating..."  He shuddered in revulsion.  "...Seafood."  If he had to name one reason for his persistent squabbles with Bliss, it would have to be the seafood.  Shrimp, oysters, calamari...she devoured it all.  But that wasn't the issue at the moment.

"So you want me to move?" she asked.  "Why didn't you just say so?"

Ha.  That was a good one.  "Come on," he snapped.  "Do you honestly expect me to believe that you haven't noticed me standing here for the past minute trying to nicely ask you to move?"

"What?"  Bliss snorted.  "And how was I supposed to know that's what you wanted?  You're just standing there clearing your throat and you expect me to read your mind?"

"Yes!" Trevize fired back.  "Or isn't Gaia good enough to read my emotions?  Aw, poor little Bliss," he taunted.  "She's far away from home and she misses her little planet.  Or maybe she just misses Dom..."  He knew he was going too far, but he couldn't seem to control his vocal cords.

Bliss's eyes were wide with anger.  "What?  Say that again, Trevize."  Oh boy.  He was in trouble now.  "Go on, say it.  You already said it once.  You think I'm in love with Dom, Trevize?  You think I'm just stringing Pel along, is that it?"  She rose from the sofa, her eyes flashing.  Trevize gulped and backed toward the door.  Why couldn't he control his big mouth at times like this?

"No," he protested weakly as she advanced on him.  "I didn't mean—I wasn't thinking—"

"Oh, that much is obvious," Bliss replied coldly.  She stopped and regarded him, her lip curling in total disgust.  "I don't know why Pel tolerates you.  If it were up to me, I'd throw you out the airlock.  Of course, that's just my personal opinion—don't worry, I won't harm a hair of your head.  It's not worth the effort anyway."  

Shaking her head, she turned her back on Trevize and started to go back to the sofa.  Then she turned back to face him.  Trevize drew away slightly, wanting to stay out of arm's reach, but she merely held out her hand.  "My shrimp, _if_ you please, Ex-councilman," she said, glaring just over his right shoulder.

Ex-councilman...that was a new one.  Wordlessly, Trevize handed over the container.  Bliss snatched it from him, flounced back over to the sofa, and flopped down on it once more with a dark look in his direction.  "We'll need more seafood soon," she said to the room at large.  "I hope Trevize remembers to get some the next time we make planetfall."

Trevize made a squeaky noise in the back of his throat and stalked out of the parlor.

Somehow, he made it to his room without murdering any innocent bystanders and made a point of closing the door quietly and carefully.  No sense in damaging his beautiful ship, after all...Sitting down on the bed, he let out a tremendous sigh and slumped forward, elbows resting on knees in his typical depressed position.

Looking down at himself, Trevize realized something he hadn't noticed before in the routine of everyday life on the _Far Star.  "I've had this sash for a long time," he said to himself, fingering the ends of the bright green sash.  Or, at least, it had once been bright green—now it was a sort of drab olive shade that barely clashed with the brown of his pants and tunic at all._

This was serious, Trevize realized.  Quickly, he got up and crossed to his small closet.  He inspected his large collection of sashes as furnished by Mayor Branno—the same sashes that had been through his adventures on Sayshell, Gaia, Comporellon, Aurora, and all the other places he had visited over the last months.  They were all, without exception, faded to the point where the entire effect of wearing annoyingly bright colors was lost.

"Well, that settles it," Trevize said aloud, frowning as he wondered why this had escaped his notice until now.  "I need more sashes."  He then lay down on the bed and proceeded to have a long, refreshing nap.

But the computer of the _Far Star_ did not sleep...

Deep inside the gravitic memory banks of the computer, there was an almost insurmountable instinct: _Obey the wishes of Master Golan._  And, although Master Golan had not expressed his wishes directly to the computer, it was nonetheless aware of them for the simple reason that it was aware of every word that was spoken on the ship.

As Golan Trevize slept, Janov Pelorat read, and Blissenobiarella ate seafood, the computer conducted research on its own.  If it had been the type of ancient computer that hummed or buzzed as it operated, the noise would surely have been earsplitting.  However, it was perfectly silent as it went about its work, functioning many times faster than the human brain at its best.__

_Search: Nearest planet with good malls._  __

Slowly, slowly the _Far Star changed its course.  Its passengers were blissfully unaware of any change in their direction or speed, but that was immaterial.  Without any human direction at all, the computer successfully performed Jump after Jump, coming closer and closer to its goal._

Master Golan would be pleased indeed.

A/N: This is really strange.  I'm having fun with it, though, so I hope you are too.  Yes, supposedly Trevize and Bliss became friends, but there was always that element of just barely getting along.  And Fallom really, really didn't help.  For some reason, I can't get rid of the thought of Bliss sitting around all day eating seafood!  Odd, yes, but it makes for an interesting story.  So if you loved this, hated it, just want me to update so you can see whether it's worth reading, review!  I'll try to write more soon.


	2. Boredom

Disclaimer: I don't own the occupants of the _Far Star._ However, I think I can fairly claim a share of ownership of the deranged onboard computer.

A/N: Sorry this took so long to post. I loved summer…I actually had time to write…and somehow I still didn't manage to update this. Anyway, will someone please review this? It doesn't have to be much, just "this is so weird, what are you smoking?" Well, no, not quite like that, but I like to know if people are reading my stuff. Plus I like this idea, weird as it is.

MintyPill: Thank you, thank you, thank you! A reviewer! Yay!…Oh, and you should definitely reread the last two books. Always worth another reading. Or at least _Foundation's Edge_ is.

biggstrek: Thanks. Yeah, it is a weird slant, but if you ask me the Foundation universe can always use more weird slants. Makes it more interesting. Hopefully this one's weird enough…darn thing took long enough to finish…

Boredom

"You _what?"_

Trevize sighed inwardly and steeled himself to explain to Bliss in words that wouldn't get him killed on the spot. "Not _me,_ the computer," he said patiently. "It must have done it on its own."

"Right," Bliss said skeptically. She was sitting on the couch—where else?—and busily shoveling down the remains of some poor squid. She took a break every ten seconds or so to breathe and glare at Trevize.

"Now, Bliss." Pelorat was doing his best to keep peace between the two, but it wasn't working. "I'm sure that if Golan says he didn't mean to do it, he's telling the truth." She didn't look convinced.

Willing himself not to clench his fists too obviously, Trevize began pacing around the room. "It won't let me change course—apparently it's convinced that it knows what's best for us." He was never going to live this down. He should have known! The computer had lulled him into a false sense of security and then, when he least expected it, it had struck.

Bliss licked her fingers daintily. Trevize winced. "Okay, let me get this straight. Our ship—"

_"My_ ship," Trevize corrected.

"The ship in which we currently reside has changed its course and is now taking us to parts unknown against our will. Am I right so far?"

Trevize shrugged. "Basically, yes." He knew this was building up to a very unpleasant conclusion, but he couldn't stop her.

"And this has occurred because _you_ decided you needed new sashes." She glowered at him and speared another chunk of something vaguely tentacular. He shuddered.

"Well, it's not quite like that, if you'd just listen to me—" he protested, but she cut him off.

"Don't try to tell me this isn't your fault, Trevize! Oh, if only Pel had listened to me and left you behind with Daneel…"

"But it's _not_ my fa—" Trevize started. She glared at him and he shut his mouth abruptly, suddenly afraid of what might happen if he crossed her in this mood. Dealing with Bliss was a tricky business at the best of times, not to mention minor crises like this.

Pelorat blinked. "I don't see what all the fuss is about," he said plaintively.

Bliss turned to him. "What do you mean, Pel?" she asked in a much gentler tone. "This moron has managed to put us on autopilot to who knows where!"

"But what's so bad about it really?" Pelorat asked earnestly. "I mean, shopping isn't a bad thing. I don't know about malls on other worlds—"

"They're much the same as any you would find on Terminus, Janov," Trevize put in. "I assure you, the same stores are all over the galaxy."

Pelorat nodded. "Then why not just enjoy the trip? I've run across some delightful bookstores in my time. And we didn't really have a set itinerary anyway, you know." He smiled, a faraway look in his eyes. "There are some truly heavenly bookstores out there…"

"And there's a food court for you, Bliss," Trevize muttered under his breath. "You can eat seafood to your piggy little heart's content." Bliss gave him a sharp look, but he widened his beautiful brown eyes innocently and she turned away with a snort.

True to form, Pelorat hadn't noticed this. "It's settled, then?" he asked hopefully. "We'll make a proper shopping trip of it?"

Bliss just managed not to roll her eyes, no doubt not wishing to hurt Pelorat's feelings. "Of course, dear," she said. "If that's what you want." She shot Trevize a look of pure venom.

"Good, good," said Trevize, rubbing his hands together. "Not much to do except wait, then, is there?" He thought about what he had just said. Suddenly, the prospect of spending several days trapped in the same ship as Bliss with absolutely nothing to do seemed very bleak indeed…

Two days later, the prospect was considerably bleaker. Trevize sighed for what felt like the millionth time, shifted position in his chair, and ran his hand through his hair.

"Go fish," he said dully.

Bliss scowled at him. "Are you sure?" she demanded.

Trevize ground his teeth a little. "Yes," he said firmly, shoving the draw pile toward her for emphasis. Bliss took a card with bad grace.

"My turn!" Pelorat cried, oblivious to the building hostility between the other two. "Let me see now…" He looked at his hand. Trevize tried to ignore the fact that he could clearly see every one of Pelorat's cards.

"Aha," Pelorat said happily. "Golan, do you have any fives?"

Trevize had three fives, which he had been planning to use on his next turn. Wordlessly, he handed them over to Pelorat, who beamed.

"I'm having astounding luck this round, wouldn't you agree, Golan?"

"Very much so," said Trevize, giving Pelorat one of his few remaining smiles. He wasn't sure what he would do when he ran out. "Simply unbelievable."

Pelorat smiled back and rubbed his hands together, a feat which he somehow accomplished while still holding his cards. "Ah…hmm…Bliss, my dear, do you have any tens?"

Bliss sighed and handed him a pair. "This is so exciting!" Pelorat gushed as he added them to his hand. "I'm so glad we're going on this little adventure. Gives us a little bonding time, eh?"

When he looked away for a second, Bliss gave Trevize a look that said quite clearly that she would bond her fist to his jaw if she thought she could get away with it. Trevize was all too familiar with the sentiment.

"Well?" he asked. "Shall we just give up now, Janov? We all know you're going to win. Again," he added.

Pelorat looked a little embarrassed. "Oh, my dear chap, don't—really, I mean—with the laws of probability and all, I'm bound to lose _eventually_…"

"Probability seems to have taken a week off," Trevize muttered. "What's the probability of my ship deciding to take me on a shopping trip without my permission?" It made him feel like a five-year-old again, with his mother dragging him off to department stores he hated to buy him ugly clothes he didn't want. The memory did not improve his temper.

A thought occurred to him. "I just thought of something," he said aloud. "I think—"

"We should switch to another game?" Pelorat interrupted. "Oh, yes, capital idea, simply wonderful. Well, what'll it be? I'm rather partial to gin rummy, myself." He looked expectantly at Trevize.

"No, no, nothing like that," Trevize said a little impatiently. "I was just thinking that perhaps we ought to find out where we're actually going."

Both Pelorat and Bliss blinked at him for a few seconds. "I thought we already knew that," Pelorat said at last. "We're going to a shopping center."

"Yes," Trevize continued, "but on which planet? Which sector, even? I simply haven't checked our destination yet."

Bliss frowned. "I'm surprised at you, Trevize. Even you're not usually this idiotic." He stuck his tongue out at her when Pelorat wasn't looking. Who was she to talk about idiocy?

"Well," he said hastily, recognizing a golden opportunity, "I'd better go check that, hadn't I?" He stood up. "You'll just have to finish without me."

Pelorat looked up in consternation. "But we can't play Go Fish properly with only two people!" Trevize ignored this and fled the room.

Once he reached his bedroom, Trevize closed the door and leaned against it in relief. If he stalled enough, it could be as long as thirty minutes before he would have to look at another hand of cards again. And if there was one thing he had learned how to do well as a councilman, it was stalling.

"All righty then," he murmured to himself, sitting down at the computer and placing his hands on the surface of the desk. "Time to get down to business." He simply thought his question into the computer: _What is our destination?_

Neotrantor. Hmmm. Not a bad place, as planets went. Good restaurants, good entertainment, apparently good malls. All in all, it looked like this might shape up to be a fairly enjoyable trip. If he could make Bliss shut up.

Now for the stalling. It would be pathetically easy, really, since Janov was so trusting—just sit in his room for a while enjoying the peace and quiet. Trevize proceeded to do so, occasionally pounding something and shouting, "Aargh! Stupid computer!" so as to be more convincing. It was extremely relaxing. After a while, Trevize mentally substituted "Bliss" for "computer".

He wondered idly how Pelorat and Bliss were faring without a third player. Suddenly, he sat up straighter, guilt filling him. How could he have been so inconsiderate as to leave Janov alone with that card shark? He could picture Pelorat, who despite his luck had never had much of a poker face, losing hand after hand after hand…

Reluctantly, Trevize accepted that it was his duty as a friend to suffer by Janov's side. In love he might be, but Trevize doubted even that would protect him from Bliss if they were playing cards. Nothing was adequate protection against Bliss.

With a sigh, he stood up and cast a longing glance at the computer. It would be so easy to barricade himself in his room for the rest of the trip…so easy…But he had to do what was right. Resolutely, he closed the door behind him and returned to the parlor.

"Anyone for a hand of poker?" he asked.

After another day of constant card games, Trevize felt like the survivor of one of those ancient barbaric nuclear wars. Who knew Janov liked Go Fish that much? Or was that good at it…if they had been playing for money, Janov would have been rich and Trevize broke.

His only comforting thought was that they had reached Neotrantor after what seemed like an eternity. From here things could only go up.

Or so he hoped.

"Seafood supplies are running low," Bliss announced over breakfast. "I'll have to resort to tofu substitute soon at this rate." She smiled. "Good thing we're going shopping, isn't it?"

Trevize knew his smile was not at all convincing. He wasn't in the mood to cater to Bliss's immature fixation with shellfish. "Very good thing," he said. "Smashing." Bliss smiled sweetly and kicked him hard under the table. Trevize winced.

"Are we there yet?" Pelorat asked excitedly, beaming at both of them. "Are we, Golan?"

"Not quite yet, Janov," Trevize said tolerantly. "We still have to make planetfall. Speaking of, I'd better go supervise the computer during the descent." Hastily, he pushed his chair back and excused himself, glad for any excuse to leave the room.

Once they had landed without any major mishaps, Trevize quickly threw a few hundred credits and a change of clothing into a bag. Maybe he could sneak away without being stopped and come back after he had spent some relaxing time alone. Somewhere relatively quiet and peaceful—say, a mosh pit or a crowded holo theater. Anything was better than the _Far Star._

Trevize ran into Pelorat on his way out. "Oh, my dear fellow," Pelorat said happily, attempting to shake Trevize's hand. "We're here at last! I do congratulate you on a superb bit of navigating."

Realizing that this could lead to a long conversation, Trevize desperately cast about for a way to escape. "Look over there!" he exclaimed, pointing behind Pelorat. " 'Gullible' is written on the ceiling!"

"Where?" Pelorat asked, turning to look. With a momentary twinge of remorse, Trevize brushed past him and sprinted for the airlock. No irate Bliss appeared to block his way, and he burst out into the spaceport with a wild laugh of exultation.

He was free.

A/N: Um, wow, haven't updated in a long time, have I? November I'll be doing the National Novel Writing Month thing, so I probably won't update then. Unless I have a bunch of spare time over Thanksgiving…my grandmother's coming for Christmas instead, so I probably will. I'm currently reading _Psychohistorical Crisis_ by Donald Kingsbury—great book. Oh, and if you have Yahoo and you'd like to join an Asimov group, mine is called ZoranelinExile (that's "Zoranel in Exile" with underscores between the words, stupid formatting...!). I would give you a link, but I've had trouble with them before. You should be able to find it…pleeeaase…I need members…Review and I'll try to update sometime before the next century!


End file.
